


One of Those Days

by B_does_the_write_thing



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, and everything is beautiful, married golds doing super cute couple things, where nothing hurts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 16:28:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4312248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_does_the_write_thing/pseuds/B_does_the_write_thing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Belle has a rather bad day, her husband steps in to try and help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One of Those Days

**Author's Note:**

> Anon Prompt

“Belle….Sweetheart, please come out from under there.”

Pursing her lips in displeasure, the diminutive brunette below the counter shook her head. Despite the sudden creaking of his hips that signaled he was indeed getting older without the surrounding protection of magic, the man with many names bent down to get a better look at his wife.

“Belle, I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, you know that…You’re just having a bad day…”

Watery eyes met his in the shadows below the register, doubt and worry clouding the usual crystal smooth surface of her gaze. “I’m scared,” she admitted, lip trembling as she bit down on her cheek.

Rumplestitlskin raised his left hand to her chin, caressing her cheek with his fingers. She leaned into the simple embrace, seeking comfort from his touch. He, of course, took this opportunity to better study the bruise developing on her right cheek. With a slight exhalation, he released a small healing spell into her skin, praying she didn’t feel the tingle-

“Rumple!” Came the betrayed shout, just as a loud thud echoed in his ears like a cannon explosion and a pained whimper immediately followed like a punch in the gut.

“Sweetheart,” he found himself saying in a panic, falling to his knees as he pulled her out from underneath the counter to hold her to his chest. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you-“

Mewling noises of pain were his only answer as he rocked her fitfully against his once bad leg. He didn’t dare ascertain the damage, probably a bump in the morning at the very worst but still-

“Rumple, I told you,” came the hiccuped response, defensive and indignant. “No magic!”

“But you were hurt-“ he explained, pushing her curls behind her ear to see how the bruise was faring.

“Because of magic!”

“Well,” he hedged, looking for the loophole in her argument. “I suppose if the means justify the ends-“

“Rumple!” She exclaimed in a huff, pushing her head back to look up from underneath his chin. “If you hadn’t bought that magic mirror from Regina’s garage sale, I wouldn’t have broken it while I was trying to clean it!”

“But Belle,” he found himself saying, trying to reassure her through her growing panic. “It wasn’t her magic mirror- it was just some old thing she had in her office-“

“Which she used magic on!” Belle wailed, wincing as he gingerly probed the top of her head. Her cheek was already pinking, the bruise fading away. “You can’t tell me that I walked into that door face first, accidentally ate a cricket in my sandwich AND spilled tea all over my favorite skirt today if I hadn’t been cursed!”

“You’re just having a bad day,” he repeated logically, smiling tight-lipped down at her face as it darkened up at him. She pushed against his chest, crossing her arms as she pouted upon the floor.

“Henry said-“

“Henry,” Rumple interrupted gently,” Is a very precocious child.”

“He’s fourteen,” Belle pointed out with an arched eyebrow.

Knowing better than to go down this particular path, he nodded gravely before he continued. “Yes, well, he is still a very imaginative boy. In this world, it has been said that breaking a mirror breaks seven years of bad luck-“

Belle opened her mouth but he shushed her with a light finger against her lips, savoring the feel of her breath against his skin even as her eyes flashed at him in warning.

“But,” he continued. “That’s just one of the old wives tales that came from our land’s history. Breaking an enchanted mirror would have unleashed a jinn into the world, thus cursing the breaker to be enchained to their devious will.”

Belle didn’t answer for a moment; simply leaned her head back against his chest in thought. He didn’t dare say anything besides whispering apologies as he tried to calm her down through the gentle press of his hand along her back in long sweeping strokes. As much as it tempted him to try another small healing spell, he knew how she’d react so he resisted the urge.

After a few moments of silence, he leaned down to press a chase kiss against her forehead. “Feeling better?”

“No,” came the piteous response.

“What can I do to make you feel better?” He asked, closing his eyes as he pressed his chin against the curls of her head. He was careful to avoid putting pressure on her sensitive scalp, just letting her feel him around her in the way he knew she liked.

“Well…, I am rather hungry…”

Gold repressed his sigh, moving his head as he prepared for what he knew came next.

“Granny’s?” He supplied, already getting to his feet. The vigorous nod of approval it elicited from Belle caused him to smile despite his stomach’s trepidation. “Well, then let us go before the dinner rush starts.”

As she popped to her feet, as if her three-inch heels were no more than air, she was already babbling on about the new special, something with jalapeños when he saw the impending accident before she did. Her right heel, the sole’s padding already dangerously close to wearing away, caught on the rich Persian rug he had stolen from some orphan years ago.

Uttering a soft ‘Oh!’, Belle tumbled forward, arms flailing dangerously. With a gust of instinctual magic, Gold managed to catch his wife with a cushion of air, letting her down gently on to the soft fabric. But the damage had been done. Belle had knocked over half of his brass candlesticks, causing a domino effect that went around the shop with a series of crashes, bangs and shattering glass.

 

In the end, as they sat at Granny’s, Belle munching miserably on her fries as she peered up at his ruined suit, (it had been in hindsight, rather foolish to have a pot of ink on display), Rumplestitlskin tried to think of a way to take her mind off her misfortunes when Henry sat unexpectedly down next to them.

“Belle,” he greeted, helping himself to one of her fries even as the exasperated, “Kid!” followed his less than stealthy theft.

“Henry,” he acknowledged, watching as the boy’s mother approached them cautiously. Emma appeared to like Belle but she always seemed unnerved by his wife’s tireless devotion to him, careful to be polite but never warm despite their similar age and experiences in loss.

“Hi Emma,” Belle enthused, trying to mask her unhappiness with a large smile. “Want to join us?”

“Thanks but we’re meeting-“

“Come on, Mom,” Henry interrupted, smiling up at her in a way that was far too familiar for Gold’s old heart. With a wince, he turned his gaze back down to his untouched burger, trying to stave off the memories of Bae that were threatening to break his well constructed walls. “Hook can wait.”

“Killian,” Emma corrected gently, even as she nervously smiled at Belle. Belle nodded absently, pushing her basket towards Henry. Happy to take over for her, Henry grabbed the ketchup bottle, only to accidently knock over the saltshaker in a spray of white granules.

“Oh rats,” the boy grumbled, gripping the ketchup shaker with a white grip. “Now, I’ve got Belle’s bad luck.”

“Kid,” Emma laughed, rustling his hair with her free hand even as she plucked her cell from her jacket pocket. “You have to got to chill on the old wives tales.”

“Throw some over your left shoulder,” Belle suggested helpfully. “I read that helps.”

Henry quickly followed suit, checking carefully that no one was behind him before letting the salt fly. Emma shook her head, turning to say something to Gold before catching herself and looking back down at her phone as it chirped.

“Thanks Belle,” Henry said gratefully. “You read up on old wives tales this afternoon?”

Nodding, Belle smiled over at Rumple before back down at his grandson. “The breaking of the mirror doesn’t have a counter spell like spilled salt though,” she explained, confessing her worry through this small fact.

“Don’t worry,” Henry said with a canary-eating grin as he stole a glance over at his grandfather. “I hear true love’s kiss can break any curse.”

The ringing of the bell over the door signaled Hook’s entrance. Belle nodded in a polite but chilly greeting and Emma to turn from them to embrace her new beau.

Henry just sighed, toying with the saltshaker absently. “Well, guess the salt didn’t work.”

“Henry,” Belle chided, though her eyes met his across the table in silent agreement with the young boy.

“I know,” the kid replied with a sigh. “It’s just- he’s Hook. And you’re the Crocodile and Dad was-“

“I know, Henry,” Rumplestitlskin said with quiet empathy.

“Anyways,” the preteen had managed to finish the rest of Belle’s fries and was now looking around for a new distraction. Happily, Regina swept in with Robin and Roland and Henry’s eyes lit up in excitement. “Oh, I bet they’re going to get milkshakes!”

“Bye Henry,” Belle laughed as Henry bolted from their table to join his adopted mother. Her twinkling eyes met his across the table again, and she smiled at him sheepishly.

“I guess I let this whole bad luck thing ruin my day,” she admitted, toeing his foot beneath the table. “I appreciate if I was in any real trouble, you would have known.”

“Always,” he promised her, taking her hand in his and kissing the knuckles across the distance between them. He heard a faint gagging noise from behind them but another sharp rapping noise and then an “Ouch! Ruby!” followed quickly after.

“Should we-“ Belle blushed, trying to appear serious even as her mischievous eyes danced in the fluorescent lighting. “Try Henry’s solution?”

With a devilish glint in his eyes and a wicked grin on his lips, Rumple stood, raising her from her seat in a gentlemanly fashion. “The quicker the better,” he whispered as she unfolded herself from the booth.

And so, they made their way to the exit, holding hands and ignoring the curious glances of the other couples as they made their way into the darkness.

 

Later, as they lay in his king size bed, Belle lazily drawing circles on his chest, he heard her sigh in content before she collapsed on top of him. Her brown curls easily reached his left hand and he started to twirl them about his finger, the feeling of her silken tresses more relaxing than any straw or spun gold had ever felt.

“Perhaps,” Belle murmured into his skin as sleep started to take her. “It wasn’t such a bad day after all…”

He was rather inclined to agree.


End file.
